Lightweight
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'The smile tugs at her lips. He's always been an amusing drunk, maybe a bit whiny, but also sweet, sleepy and easy to handle. "You're a lightweight."' Episode insert of sorts for 8x03, PhDead.


**A/N: An alternative scenario exploring how the ending to the beer pong scene could have gone had Beckett been the one to escort Castle home and failed to receive that call from Vikram.**

* * *

The ping pong ball bounces towards her and she catches it with ease, the reprimand on her tongue giving way to the rueful smirk already claiming her lips. He's drunk, that much is apparent, and a little disheveled. Makes her want to take care of him, smooth her hands over the wrinkles in his shirt, through his hair and over the tired lines carved deep into his skin.

But she tosses the ball back instead, a perfect shot into his cup, and he grins up at her, childlike delight illuminating those glossy eyes.

"Drink," she quips, strolling towards the group of college kids gathered around the table while he gulps down another cup of beer and his angelic daughter eyes her with caution, the threat of familiar betrayal glimmering in her gaze.

Beckett dispels the crowd, has the underage drinkers scrambling while Castle begins stumbling through the reasons why they should team up in beer pong, sounding so hopeful and excited to have her there while Alexis looks on in pity.

"Castle," she stops him, a little softer than she had planned, but despite the annoyance he's evoked by barging in on her case, the true motive behind it breaks her heart.

He's trying to win her back.

She doesn't know how to make him see that he never lost her to begin with.

"Go home, you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," he protests, straightening up, his head wobbling a bit with the movement while his body threatens to sway to one side. "Casing the crack – case… crack-cr-crack- cracking the case!"

The smile tugs at her lips. He's always been an amusing drunk, maybe a bit whiny, but also sweet, sleepy and easy to handle. "You're a lightweight."

"Come on, Dad," Alexis coaxes, pointedly avoiding Kate's eyes and hooking her fingers in the crook of Castle's elbow. "Let's go."

"No, no," he whines, resisting the tug of Alexis's hand and listing towards Kate instead. "Beckett, we could - we could just… not go?"

His eyebrows hitch with the suggestion, the upward curve of his lips waning, heartbreaking, and she sighs, steps away from the Frankenstein standing a little too close to her side and towards her husband.

"I'll take him home," she tells Alexis, earning pursed lips and wariness that crowds Alexis's features. But it isn't as bad as the last time – disappointment, yes, a good dose of disapproval as well, but no fury in his daughter's piercing eyes.

"Just be careful with him," Alexis requests, a quiet plea in her voice as she allows Kate to curl her fingers around Castle's wrist, and Beckett nods.

"I will," she promises, allowing Castle to lean into her side, releasing his wrist to lace her arm around his waist and secure his balance with a palm to his chest. "C'mon, babe."

"Still calling me babe?" he remarks, working hard to walk steadily at her side, easing an arm up and around her shoulders once they reach the exit.

Kate frowns at how surprised he sounds, stealing a sideways glance to study the pleasant quirk of his mouth, the delight shimmering in his glazed eyes. "We're not broken up, Rick," she murmurs, leading him down the sidewalk, towards the back of the campus where her cruiser is parked. "It's just… time. Just a little time apart."

"Separation," he states, that goofy smile falling into a crestfallen frown, the vibrant hues of his eyes dulling. "It's a separation."

She wants to tell him that he's wrong, that they aren't separated, not like all of the couples she has witnessed use the term in the past, but she swallows down her reasoning, guides him towards the passenger side of the vehicle. Trying to explain it to him will only lead to more questions she can't answer. Not yet.

Once Castle is safely inside the car and battling with his seatbelt, Beckett slides into the driver's side, keys the ignition to life and checks her mirrors. She's hoping Rick might get some sleep on the drive back, but his eyes remain on her while she pulls out of the parking lot, into nighttime traffic.

"Where are you staying?" he mumbles, tilting his head back against the seat, his cheek smudging against the leather.

Kate chews on her bottom lip to subdue the smile, because she doesn't deserve to be smiling, not when she's causing him so much misery. But he's still her husband and she's unable to refrain from reaching out, dusting her fingers along the smooth plane of his cheek, watching his eyes flutter at the touch.

"Hotel," she murmurs, returning her hand to the steering wheel and focusing on the flow of traffic ahead. "Just for now."

He perks up at that, eagerly twisting towards her in the seat. "Does that mean-"

"Just - until I can find a cheap place to rent," she clarifies, hating herself for it, for the way his entire face deflates and his body slumps back into the seat.

"You're going to move out," he realizes aloud, staring down at the hands in his lap.

"No," she argues, the idea of packing up her things, trying to make some other place her home, even if it's only temporary – it tightens the already painful knot in her chest. "I just need a place to stay for a little while. I'm not - my home will always be with you."

"Why can't it be with me now, Beckett?" he grumbles, knocking his forehead against the window, his skull bumping loudly into the glass.

His eyes are squeezed shut when she spares another glance towards him, the fissures in her heart splintering deeper, and she reaches for his hand, twines their fingers together atop his knee and holds on for the rest of the drive to the loft.

She wants to respond, to tell him everything, but she grits her teeth to lock the words inside. Sinning by silence once more.

* * *

Rick didn't sleep on the way to their home, but he did drift a little, intoxication mixing with drowsiness while she helps ease him out of the car and onto the sidewalk. He's a little steadier on his feet, but not by much, the arm that snakes its way back around her shoulders cinching every few steps.

They've done this walk up to the loft plenty of times before and since Castle has definitely been far worse off than she has on a few occasions, his low liquor tolerance never matching up to hers, she discovered an effective rhythm of how to get him in the building and safely to bed without issue.

She is grateful, though, once they're inside the elevator and she's able to prop Castle against the wall, keeping him balanced between her body and the familiar gold paneling as the lift ascends to the top floor.

"This is depressing," he huffs, staring down at her with an exaggerated pout that she yearns to press her lips to, so tired of seeing him frowning. "Usually, when I'm drunk and in an elevator with you, you're all over me. I should be at second base by now."

A choked laugh escapes from her mouth and Kate shakes her head, raises her hands to his face and cradles his jaw in her palms. "It'll be like that again soon, I promise."

"Don't," he sighs, neither angry nor resentful, just… resigned, turning away from her and causing her hands to fall from his face, tripping down to land on his chest. "Don't make me anymore promises."

The elevator doors part and Castle manages to step free of the lift without stumbling, listing towards the wall and starting down the hall. Kate follows after a second too long, her heart spearing itself into her ribs, slicing with every beat.

Castle is digging in his pockets at the door once she catches up to him, already withdrawing her keys without thinking and inserting them into the lock out of habit, pausing once the tumblers have already clicked into place.

"Should… did you want it back?" she asks, swallowing around the lump in her throat that just won't recede. "The key."

He glowers at her then, nudging the door open and pulling her keys from the lock with only a hint of a struggle before handing them back to her. "This is your home," he reminds her. "Our home. For as long as you want it to be."

He shuffles inside but stops in the foyer, glancing back to her with a furrowed brow when she remains on the other side of the open doorway.

"Always," she answers him, her lips threatening to quiver and her eyes starting to sting. Nothing new these days. "I always want it to be my home, but it can't - not right now."

Rick turns around, clutching at the wall when he spins too quickly. "Don't leave-"

"Castle, I can't stay," she whispers, reaching out only to hold him steady with her hands at his waist, but Rick clutches weakly at her arms. "I shouldn't even be here-"

"No, Kate, don't go," he breathes, tilting further into her, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. "Not again."

The tears clog in her throat, building as he buries his face in the side of her neck, and she can't resist winding her arms around him, cradling his skull and lowering her cheek to rest against his temple, her lips at his ear.

"I love you," she breathes, combing her fingers through his hair. "I love you so much, I'm sorry."

"Just stay," he mumbles into her skin, the hands at her elbows curling, drawing her in closer, along after him as he walks backwards in the direction of their bedroom. "Stay tonight. At least tonight."

Oh, she needs to say no. Has to say no. If she doesn't, if the wrong person sees her vehicle parked outside the loft, they're going to know. They're going to figure out she's with him and then his life will be in danger and all of this agony will be for _nothing_ -

"Kate." He lifts his head, his eyes flaring with need, and she chokes on a breath. She has to protect him, but there has to be some form of balance between keeping him safe and breaking his heart.

"Okay," she rasps, nodding her head and stealing his hands from her arms, kicking the door shut behind them with the nudge of her boot. "I'll stay."

Just for tonight. She'll just stay tonight, just until he falls asleep, and then she'll leave before anyone can even notice she was here.

* * *

Castle drifts along after her once she's locked the door, checking the peephole once and the deadbolt twice before deeming it safe. Something he's only seen her do when she feels threatened, or when they're in danger, and he wishes his brain wasn't so muddled with the series of drinks he'd had at the frat party because pieces of this puzzle are desperate to connect in his head.

He's quickly distracted by the clasp of Beckett's hand around his, though, leading him through his study and into their bedroom. It eases the weight that has taken residence atop his chest since she walked out his door only a few short days ago, shoots the temporary relief through his system. Even through the haze of alcohol, he knows it can't be this easy, that this isn't how he wins her back and convinces her to stay, but it's a start. She's staying with him, and for tonight, that's all that matters.

Warmth runs through his veins as he watches her step free of her ankle boots on the way to their bed, spreads through his bloodstream and eradicates the bone deep sorrow that had settled in his limbs when she releases his hand to shed her coat.

"Castle," she chuckles, looking back over her shoulder at him with a gentle smile that indicates he likely has a dopey expression claiming his face, but he doesn't care. She won't stay, maybe if he repeats it to himself enough times, he'll stop hoping for it, but in this moment, he can pretend that it's just a normal night, that she's just come home late from a long day at work and he's a little tipsy from the scotch he sometimes sips at his desk while writing and now they're just crawling into bed.

Together. Like always.

Rick attempts to step out of his own shoes while Kate's attention lingers on their bed, her untouched side of it, but she's jerking forward a moment later, steadying him before his half discarded right shoe can send him toppling to the floor.

"Sorry," he slurs, successfully kicking the shoe off, the left one following, while his wife braces him with one hand at his bicep while the other trails down the front of his shirt, undoing buttons and helping him work the dress shirt from his shoulders.

They both pause when her fingers brush his belt, heat instantly spilling through his blood. It's innocent, the way she's undressing him, but it makes him want her. They've been married for just short of a year, together for far longer than that, but his want for her has never diminished, especially not after a week of missing her.

But Kate pulls away, her gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth before her entire body is turning from him, retreating towards the bed.

"Don't fall," she warns once he's finally stepping out of his jeans, stripping down to his typical sleepwear of boxers and a t-shirt, and he shoots her a proud grin at the accomplishment.

The eye roll he earns sets his battered heart at ease.

Castle plops gracelessly on his side of the bed, staring up at her expectantly and sighing out in relief as she crawls in next to him, settling into a sitting position.

He wishes she would retrieve a pair of the pajamas that still remain tucked away in her side of the closet, wishes she would slip beneath the sheets and tangle her limbs with his, further the illusion he's built up in his head for the night, but Kate remains fully dressed and propped against the headboard. Far from their nightly normal.

"Is your head hurting yet?" she asks quietly, stroking tentative fingers through his hair when he shifts onto his side and seals his forehead to her outer thigh.

"A little," he admits, the pounding in his skull dull but alive. The tips of her fingers grazing his scalp, circling around to comb back the flop of hair at his forehead and soothing the throb of the forming hangover, coaxing him closer to a state of relaxation, a slumber he refuses to give into. "That helps."

Kate scoots closer to him, bumps his shoulder with her knee in silent request for him to turn onto his back, and Castle obeys, hums contently when his head ends up in her lap.

"This usually helps lessen your hangovers," she explains, two of her fingers circling at his temples, skirting along his hairline.

He almost forgot that she's done this before. A few times, actually, when he's had migraines or simply too much to drink. And as it has every single time before, the tension drains from his body at her touch, his muscles loosening and the forming headache quieting beneath the travel of her fingers over his face and along his scalp.

Castle nuzzles his cheek at her thigh in appreciation, smirking when her fingertips stutter at his chin. The pressure has evaporated from his body, but it still fills hers, has her muscles rigid and her heartbeat uneven.

"Beckett."

"Hmm?"

"Just lie down with me," he mumbles, blinking furiously to eradicate the slur accompanying his words, especially when she maneuvers from beneath his head to lower her body to rest beside his.

He expects her to turn away, to honor what he's asked of her, but to give him only the plane of her back, the curve of her shoulder. But Kate remains lying on her side to face him, sad eyes latching onto his as her hand rising between them, returning to trace the map of his face. The voluntary touching confuses him further, the longing that drenches her eyes and pains her expression making it worse.

"I love you too," he mumbles, hoping to soften the agony etched into every piece of her, but it only seems to increase at his words.

He lets her curl into his chest a moment later, hiding there, doesn't stop her from easing a knee between both of his, and catches her hand when it fists in the collar of his shirt, his thumb sweeping back and forth over the slim band of her wedding ring.

"Be okay, Kate," he manages to breathe out against the top of her head and despite how fuzzy the current state his brain is in, he knows he should not be the one doing the reassuring here. He's aware that he should be angry, and there is most certainly a part of him that is, but she's his wife and above all else, all he wants is to be allowed to love her again. "We'll be okay."

Her frame shudders, but her unoccupied hand finds its way to his back, slithers beneath his t-shirt and skims up and down his spine, her nails grazing, soothing them both, and putting him to sleep.

She breathes something into the hollow of his throat, an apology or a confession, he can't be sure, but the weight of his eyes has grown too heavy, unable to lift again, and he drifts into the darkness of sleep with the warmth of her in his arms, the heat of her tears on his skin.

He misses her again already.

* * *

Rick had sobered up more than she had expected, made things a little more difficult that she had prepared for, but the alcohol still coursing through his system has him in a deep sleep, allowing her the opportunity to untangle from the web of their limbs without waking him.

She had only planned to sit with him until he fell into sleep, maybe allow herself the indulgence of caressing his skin and murmuring reassurances until his eyes slid shut. She had _not_ planned to cuddle in his arms, to let him hold her and give her comfort she doesn't deserve. She had only made things worse, harder on him, and she has to keep wiping at the stupid tears cascading down her cheeks while she zips up her boots and snags her coat from the armchair near the door because of it.

At least he was drunk, she attempts to reason with herself as she slips silently from the bedroom, easing the door shut and ghosting through his study, into the living room and towards the front door. Maybe he won't even remember most of-

"Why are you doing this?"

Beckett stiffens near the edge of the living room, taking a deep breath to steel herself before turning around to face the girl watching her from the stairs.

"Hey Alexis," she offers up on a sigh, forcing herself to meet his daughter's eyes, to ignore the shame bubbling with her heart in her throat.

"You obviously don't want to leave," she mumbles, as if Kate hadn't spoken, descending from the second step she had been perched upon and closing the room of distance between them. Her shortened red hair is tied up into a loose bun atop her head, her face clean of makeup and her attire a concealing set of flannel pajamas a welcome change from the wholesome lingerie she had witnessed the girl in earlier. "You're crying."

Kate wipes hastily at her eyes, smearing the moisture leaking from the corners with the smudges of mascara already staining her skin.

"So I know there has to be a reason," Alexis continues, crossing her arms as she comes to stand in front of Beckett, but her posture isn't defensive. Only curious, just as desperate to know the truth as her father is. "And for you to leave my dad, it has to be a damn good one. You still… love him, don't you?"

"Of course," Kate huffs, scraping a hand through her hair. "More than anything."

"Then why..." Alexis's words trail, her brow creasing with thought, the wheels turning just like Castle's tend to when he's attempting to piece together a story and Beckett knows her chances of keeping her mission a secret are about to be damned. "To protect him. You're trying to protect him from something," Alexis whispers the conclusion, her blue eyes bright and widening. "That's the only reason you would ever leave him, isn't it?"

Beckett doesn't answer, but it's answer enough.

"Is it worth it?"

"His life is worth everything," Kate nods, absentmindedly brushing her thumb over her wedding band as he had only half an hour ago. "His safety will always come first."

Alexis purses her lips, a sign of her frustration that Beckett has come to recognize after years of knowing her, some kind of battle occurring in her mind that has indecision flickering through her troubled eyes before it settles, ice blue acceptance staring back at her.

"It does," Alexis concurs. "But he would say the same about yours, Kate."

"That - it doesn't matter. I'm going to fix it, end it, and then - then I can come home," she murmurs, the thought so sweet but so out of reach. "And hopefully, your dad will be able to forgive me. For all of this."

A sorrowful understanding blooms through Alexis's features, but then his daughter is striding forward, wrapping Kate in an unexpected hug that almost chokes the repressed sob right out of her.

"Thank you," Alexis whispers, her throat bobbing against Kate's shoulder with a thick swallow. "For loving him so much."

Beckett returns Alexis's embrace for only a second, squeezing his daughter by the shoulders as she pulls away, heading for the door, but Alexis calls quietly for her just as her fingers latch around the handle.

"And Kate?" Beckett opens the door, waits, but doesn't turn back. She can't. "He will."

Alexis's reassurance has her forcing a trembling smile over her shoulder, grateful for this newfound understanding, for the weight of worrying over his daughter's acceptance for a second time around lifted from her shoulders, and she echoes a familiar request before finally disappearing down the hall. "Just take care of him."


End file.
